


Thank You Prompts 350 Watchers (1)

by orangebarmy



Series: Turtle Tot Stories [14]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Education, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Ratings: G, Young Turtles, thank you prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:12:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3725041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangebarmy/pseuds/orangebarmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT sadly<br/>Summary: - Thank you prompts for 350 watchers :)<br/>Rating: - G</p><p>Watcher: - EnsoDancer<br/>Prompt: - Father/Son moment<br/>Setting/Characters: - Splinter and Donatello</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank You Prompts 350 Watchers (1)

Splinter sat back, stretching out his back from the hunched over position he had assumed while he was helping Leonardo with his work. Educating his sons was not an easy task for him but it was something he was determined to do. He could not provide them with a graduate level education but he could give them the basics and life skills which they were more in need of.

Their current lesson was focusing on structures and weight distribution, something which would aid them in their lives as ninja’s. Being able to identify structures which could support their weight at a moment’s notice was important but so was the importance of knowing how to create such structures themselves.

Currently his sons were trying to create a bridge out of dried spaghetti and make it as strong as possible. They had taken to the task eagerly especially when they discovered they would be allowed to use glue. Leonardo, Raphael and Michelangelo were all sat around sticking pieces of spaghetti to their bridges with wide grins on their faces.

However to the side sat Donatello who was working over his structure with intense concentration. Splinter eyed his olive green son carefully using all of his senses to track the emotions flitting across Donatello’s face. 

For the older rat it was not easy having a son such as Donatello. While the other three seemed to take everything in their stride as would be expected of their young minds, Donatello seemed to wish to pursue everything to the smallest detail. His son was obviously highly intelligent and Splinter had to admit that he struggled to deal with the tot’s constant thirst for knowledge.

“How are you doing Donatello?” Splinter questioned leaning over to look at his sons work.

The olive green brow creased as he looked over his spaghetti bridge before he let out a large huff and tossed his bridge down on the table. A pout filled out his lower lip and he crossed his arms over his plastron, turning his head away a little bit.

“It won’t work!” Donatello declared.

“Which bit of it are you struggling with?” Splinter asked shuffling a little closer to his son.

Letting out another huff, Donatello gestured to the bridge on the table. Leaning over Splinter admired the structure seeing how his son had attempted to emulate the Brooklyn Bridge. He could see the problem his son was having but he did not move to provide him with an answer. He had learned long ago that to simply provide the answer was not a help to his sons, but allowing them to work through the problem with some assistance enabled them to learn. 

“Well what do you think you can do to correct your problem?” Splinter asked gently.

“Dunno,” Donatello replied with a sulky tone.

Letting out a small breath Splinter nodded his head. He knew that tone well and knew pushing Donatello right now would not be of any use. He needed to allow Donatello time to process the information and knew given time his highly intelligent son would come up with a solution. It might not be the solution Splinter was thinking of but he knew a solution would be found.

Looking up at the clock Splinter saw there was not much time of lesson time left so he gave Donatello’s shoulder a squeeze and sat back. Turning to his other three sons he wasn’t surprised to see they had momentarily abandoned their task and instead were sitting painting their hands with the glue. He shook his head as they peeled the dried glue off almost like a second skin and began teasing each other with it.

“Alright that is enough, learning time is over,” Splinter chuckled. 

Cheers from his son as they scrambled away from the table had him laughing again. The rest of the day moved by with a steady pace with each task completed as it had done every day prior to this day.

The end of day was always Splinter’s favourite time of the day. While he loved his sons and would do anything for them, he enjoyed the solitude the late evening gave him. Sighing he started to allow his mind to drift into meditation, the stresses and strains of being a mutated rat father to four mutated turtle boys drifting away from him.

His ears flickered as he picked up a strange noise, one out of the ordinary for the home at this time of the evening. He didn’t open his eyes but instead allowed his excellent hearing to search out the source of the disturbance.

His shoulders slumped a little as he realised that one of his sons was up and about past bedtime and in need of censure. With a low groan he clambered to his feet and opened his door to look out across the lair.

Donatello looked up with a startled guilty expression and licked his lips nervously at having gotten caught. Splinter’s eyes drifted down to the table and he saw his son had taken out the items they had used earlier to make the bridges.

“I . . . I . . . I had an idea,” Donatello spluttered by way of explanation.

“It is past your bedtime Donatello,” Splinter reprimanded.

“I know but . . . but I had an idea and . . . and I wanted to . . .” Donnie tried to explain.

Shaking his head Splinter let out a low sigh. Donatello’s thirst for knowledge was unrivalled and the old rat knew that if they were human he would be in the best schools for gifted young minds. While he knew he should reprimand his young son for having broken the rules by being up and about after bedtime but he found himself sitting down beside his son.

“Okay Donatello you have an extra ten minutes, why don’t you show me what you have come up with?” Splinter smiled reassuringly.

The wide grin which spread across the olive green face and he settled down beside his father, sitting so close they were touching. Reaching out Donatello picked up the bridge and turned it over in his hands.

“I realised that I was trying to replicate the bridge with inadequate materials so I realised that I needed to change the design . . .” Donatello began to explain.

Splinter smiled reassuringly and encouraged Donatello to continue. The young turtle babbled happily and worked quickly over his bridge. The old rat marvelled at how quickly and efficiently his son could work and he knew it was best to simply let him work. With a triumphant sound Donatello lifted up the bridge and held it up for Splinter to see.

“See I used support structures here and here to help sustain the weight, with these in place the bridge can hold significantly more weight. With more time I can increase its support capabilities,” Donnie explained excitedly as he examined his bridge.

Splinter rested his hand on Donatello’s shoulder and smiled down at him. The young turtle’s eyes were sparkling brightly and he nuzzled close to his father letting out a long yawn.

“Thank you daddy,” Donnie whispered.

“You are welcome my son, come back to bed with you,” Splinter replied gently.

Scooping up the young turtle in his arms Splinter carried him up to his bedroom and laid him tenderly down on the bed. Looking up Donnie smiled sleepily holding out his arms for an embrace. Leaning down Splinter gave his son a hug and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Sleep now my son, we have lots of learning to do tomorrow,” Splinter soothed.

“Can’t wait,” came the murmured response.

Pulling the covers up over Donatello, Splinter gave him one last gentle caress before leaving him to sleep. It was certainly not easy having a son like Donatello and he knew that in the future his son’s knowledge would vastly exceed his own but he would forever be there to guide and encourage him.


End file.
